Dilated pupils
by AirborneGirl
Summary: Jane is not very happy when he finds out about Lisbon and Mashburn...


**AN: **I know, I know I haven't published anything for a long, long time, but the wait for new Mentalist episodes seemed sooooo long and I needed just the right one to base a new story on. Now, it's there…

Please enjoy this new figment of my imagination.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned The Mentalist, would I have brought back icky Mashburn? I think not. Therefore, not mine.

**Dilated pupils**

On the outside, your whole demeanor hasn't changed. How could it have? You've worked, consciously or not, for decades to build up this façade. First as a cover to hide your greediness behind, then, after your entire life was ruthlessly taken away from you, it was a mask to cover up your fear, your self-loathing.

It was designed to protect yourself from getting hurt even worse and it had worked for all these years.

Until…

Your first unwanted emotion is anger, though you're not quite sure what percentage is directed at her and what is internalized, straight back to your own stupid, mindless self.

No! You don't want to be angry with yourself, don't you spend enough time being angry at your very existence on a day to day basis? You should be angry at her! She's the one who's supposed to be flirting with you! Getting nowhere, sure, but still…that's the status quo and she should have at least had the dignity to inform you the rules had been changed overnight.

Your goad her, she bites. You goad her some more until she snaps at you. You pout and plead and charm your way out and she grudgingly forgives you because she loves you madly and therefore she has no choice but to always have your back.

Of course, always being right in the end might help too. Okay, so not always, but enough times to make her protect you whenever you are slightly off radar. After all these years, you've started to count on her for these day to day silent agreements and you hope she knows that she can, in all circumstances, always count on you, even if you'll moan and whine and bitch first for good measure. It's the game you play and like you concluded before, it has served both of you well in the past. So there should be no reason to change anything.

There. That's all clear to you. She's the one to blame all the way!

Or is she? What if she did try to warn you? What if you missed the red flags altogether, too comfortable with the dynamic between the two of you to even acknowledge you should be on the lookout for them?

She's an attractive woman. Small, but shapely. Lovely face, beautiful eyes and you love the longer hair, making her more feminine. All your compliments, no matter how inappropriate your timing or location when sprouting them, are in fact very sincere. Maybe she doubted that. She never was any good at trusting people, at least not when it came to her personal welfare.

Yet, she did seem to believe them coming from Walter freakin' Mashburn!

Patrick Jane, you dropped the ball. Right on the leftovers of your ego. Who's to blame now, huh?

So much for being a fake psychic. So much for playing games with people's mind, people's lives, their hearts. So much for trying to create a distraction by loudly announcing the non-existing relationship between Lisbon and Mashburn.

Why did you fail to notice it was not as non-existing as you had thought? Maybe because it was wishful thinking on your part?

Idiot.

This morning, as you all assembled at the new crime scene, you noticed a change in her. Sleep-deprived as you were, you couldn't quite put your finger on it until she kneeled right next to you and you caught a whiff of her scent. Sure enough, it was her own perfume, but it was intermixed with some other odor. Something masculine, something…

One look at her, very carefully as you tried to keep your voice even while keeping the topic of conversation on the victim, confirmed your suspicion: Teresa Lisbon had spent the night with a man.

There was no need for a full blown investigation to figure out what man. There was however, a direct need for a bush as you felt an unexpected wave of nausea coming up. Since it was not the first time for you to get a tad…squeamish at the sight of a murder victim, your hasty retreat went by rather unnoticed as you threw up violently at the side of the road.

Wiping your mouth vigorously and taking a mint to extinguish the foul taste in your mouth, you made your way to the car and locked yourself inside the SUV until the others came back. Pretending you were still sick prevented all of them from asking stupid questions. Back at the CBI building, you headed straight for the sanctity of your couch and unceremoniously dropped down on it, closing your eyes. Lisbon marched past you, but for once, you didn't peek at her cute backside. Somehow, it wasn't yours to peek at anymore, no matter if it never was to begin with.

Teresa and Walter Mashburn. Their flirting had been evident, even if you did have to point it out to them. The dilated pupils, the concern she showed for his personal safety…and then you had to add insult to injury by that unfounded, stupid, blundering cheeky announcement. You should have kept your big mouth shut.

But that's not your strength now is it?

Not interfering in a conversation while everybody thinks you're asleep has one advantage: you can hear everyone else talking, which could work for your own benefit.

And what you learn today is that everybody has noticed the change in their boss. Of course, it's the ever romantic Van Pelt who brings it up, casually asking the men if they have noticed anything peculiar about Lisbon. Like…she might have a lover?

Rigsby, of course, feigns total ignorance, putting both hands in the air to indicate he does not want to stick his hands in that particular bee hive. Cho merely shrugs, stating the obvious that their boss's conduct during her own time is none of their business and that she is old enough to do as she pleases as long as it isn't anything illegal.

You wish you could hypnotize with your eyes closed so you could force them to shut up. Visions of Teresa tangled up in the embrace of that rich, annoying louse makes the bile rise up in your throat again and you do not need a repeat of this morning's revolting and humiliating experience.

Rigsby starts wondering out loud where the man would have taken their boss on a date, painting the most sugary sweet scenario's while you can almost picture him trying not to look at Van Pelt, who at the same time tries to hide her embarrassment.

Luckily, you can always count on Cho to intervene. When it comes down to the sappy stuff, the stoic Korean agent has just as little patience as you do. Kindly he reminds Rigsby of his own reluctance to butt in. Shamefaced, the big man dives into his desk to retrieve a candy bar, just to gather his wits about him after this proverbial slap on the wrist.

Van Pelt just sighs. She for one is happy for their boss if she has found someone to love again. She deserves it, doesn't she?

Well, you silently have to agree. Nobody you know is as deserving of a good loving relationship than Teresa Lisbon, no arguing that. But you kind of had another lover in mind. Someone with blue-grey eyes and blonde hair. Someone a little more like yourself.

Damn her for not wanting to wait for you. Here's where you made your worst mistake: you figured she would always wait for you, that you were well worth the abstinence.

Huh. Guess not, hotshot.

The door of her office opens and all speculation of her team quickly turns into case related discussion. She walks straight to you and at her voice calling your name you open one lazy eye to take the mandatory peek. Only to find her staring right back at you with a warm smile on her face and a Styrofoam cup in her outstretched hand, offering it to you.

With a smile and one eyebrow lifted in curiosity, you take the warm cup from her, opening the lid to take a sniff.

Tea. Chamomile. For your upset stomach this morning. She hopes it'll make you feel better.

Well, isn't that sweet of her? Truly, it is, it's why you've come to love her so much. You have to show her your gratitude is sincere, she has to know you forgive her for trampling over your heart. This time…

You take a sip of the warm comforting liquid before looking up at her. Than it happens. For a moment, you don't trust your own observation, but when you blink and look again, the evidence is still there.

She's still looking at you. With pupils dilated.

Whatever this thing between her and the rich parasite was, it surely meant nothing to her. Walter's just a toy, a snack if you will, but she's had her taste of him. She won't see him in private again.

So she is still waiting for you. In silence, you promise her she won't have to wait too long.

THE END

_Thanks for reading. Reviews as always much appreciated. _


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